


Sublime and Rare

by CallYouByYourName



Series: Sublime Verse [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: BDSM, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so sorry, It's just because Luci's got those claws, It's just lazy writing on my part, Light Bondage, Light Edgeplay, M/M, Master/Pet, Mean Asra, Mild Blood, Not Canon Compliant, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, We don't like Asra in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-11-12 01:52:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18001550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallYouByYourName/pseuds/CallYouByYourName
Summary: Excerpt:“...Ah, you’re a good boy, aren’t you? What a treasure you are.”Soft Julian x Lucio, with emotional hurt/comfort and rough, controlling sex. (Asra is a poorly written meanie in this one, don't @ me.)





	1. What You've Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Soft Julian x Lucio, with emotional hurt/comfort and rough, controlling sex. In this one we're mad at Asra for hurting Julian, and Lucio's there to pick up the pieces. This might be the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written and I am ashamed of myself. Enjoy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Count Lucio enjoys showing off his favorite plaything to the Magician Asra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take note: these chapters are constantly being updated and refined, because they were posted in much too early a draft!
> 
> Also: Lucio's not sick in this one, that was way more plot than I could be bothered with. And there's no apprentice mc. Please enjoy this self indulgent, fanservice-heavy, thinly-disguised pornfic with its overabundance of feelings and rough sex. I choose to believe it's what Julian would have wanted. 
> 
> And another thing: I *know* Asra's written badly, ok. I know, I know, I *know*, and I'm sorry. I'll do better when I'm less of a hack. For now, please accept multiple chapters of smut as my sincerest apology?

“...Ah, you’re a good boy, aren’t you? What a treasure you are.”

Lucio’s voice is low and fond, a faint smile on his face. He’s seated, slouched really, in a long, deep sofa near a burning hearth, one foot resting on footstool, in an posture of utter relaxation. The long couch is an absolute necessity, because in addition to Lucio it contains one particularly long plague-doctor, currently sprawled out full-length. If Lucio can be said to be relaxed, then the doctor appears to be almost literally melting, half-in and half-out of Lucio’s elegant lap, twisted at the waist to gaze up at him. His eyes are heavy-lidded as they dreamily wander Lucio’s features, his lips slightly parted. One of his long arms extends past the arm of the sofa and into space, and he has his boots on the sofa cushions. Lucio’s good hand is tangled in the doctor’s auburn hair, while his golden claws stroke his face and throat - but so gently they don’t leave a single mark. They’re a mess, quite frankly… but too delighted in one another to care. 

It's early evening, and they've been on display in the large great-room for quite a while, one of the more public areas of the palace. They enjoy the looks they get from those passing through: some are scandalized, others curious, and many show undisguised envy, but not a soul dares to question the Count. It is while in this particular frame of mind, and while enjoying this slightly hedonistic pastime, that Lucio looks up at the sound of approaching footsteps.

The catlike steps are as soft and unobtrusive as their owner, who approaches the pair with the attitude of one who has come to carry out some mildly distasteful errand of an official nature... but his mien changes as he takes in the full contents of the couch. “Oh - Pardon me, Count Lucio, I thought you were alone. I will speak with you another time. I didn't realize you were... occupied." He inclines his head politely, acknowleding Julian's presence: "Dr. Devorak." He bows slightly, and seems ready to take his leave of both men. 

But Count Lucio, who loves an audicence, halts him, holding up a hand insouciantly. 

“On the contrary, Magician, I'm occupied very little. The good doctor only requires a single hand to keep him occupied --" Here his knowing smile gives way to a frown as the aforementioned physician attempts to slip away, doubtless intending to flee the presence of his one-time lover, perhaps embarrassed by his current state of mind. 

Sharply, the count says, "Stay as you are, Julian,” and the doctor is arrested in his act of escape. Slowly, he returns to his previous position lying across Lucio’s lap, although the languid quality of his posture has gone. Lucio settles him with a caressing hand in his hair before addressing the magician with an air of triumph: "There, you see? He's quite manageable and won't be a distraction in the slightest. Please, won't you sit?" He indicates a stuffed chair nearby. 

The magician Asra, looking uncomfortable in the extreme, knows better than to refuse. He seats himself as directed, gracefully gathering his skirts to pool against his legs. "Thank you, my lord. Before I begin I feel it is only prudent to let you know that my errand involves information of a strictly confidential nature, and comes from the Countess herself. Therefore, if you wish me to return at a later time, one more convenient to you...? I assure you it's no inconvenience."

Count Lucio preens his captive doctor, brushing through his hair to rearrange it, fixing the collar of his shirt where it had become rumpled. He appears almost pleased by the challenge. "Nonsense, Magician. Anything that you need to say to me can be said in his presence. In fact," he muses, tilting Devorak's face toward him to examine the soft, unfocused look in his grey eyes, "He probably won't even remember." Obligingly, he turns Devorak's gaze toward Asra. "You see? He's down so deep that I doubt he can remember his own name."

"It's _Ilya,_ " Devorak murmurs sulkily, turning his eyes back to Lucio, who puts a finger across his lips to quiet him. 

"Hush darling, the adults are talking," he teases, unable to hide a smile. Asra clears his throat, shifting in his seat, and Lucio glances at him, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

"Count Lucio, I mean no disrespect, and I'm sorry to be so forward, but I am _quite_ familiar with Ilya's... ah, _state of mind_ at times like these. While it's true that he can be easily ignored, he's more than once proven himself capable of remembering a great deal of what happens to him while he's like this. I beg your, um, indulgence, but might we talk more privately, at another time?" Asra's looks pained. 

Ahh, but that's right!" Count Lucio leans forward in his seat. "I'd all but forgotten that you two have a... history." He says the last word as if it tastes bad. Julian wrests hs head from Lucio's careless hands, hiding his face in his plush lap, embarrassed. Lucio caresses his long back with gentle strokes, soothing him. 

Asra nods, lips pressed into a thin line. "Just so, and please forgive me for reminding you of the fact." 

"It's understandable," Lucio allows, his fingers exploring Devorak's unruly mess of curls, "If I were you, I should brag about it at every opportunity. Be still," he adds, speaking to Devorak, as the doctor shifts restlessly. 

The magician gives a look of unmistakable revulsion before he schools his face to diplomacy, "Yes, Count Lucio," he says.

"You don't agree?" 

The magician swallows once, his only signal of discomfort at being so unexpectedly put on the spot. "To each his own taste, Count Lucio. I'm glad that you, ah, enjoy each other," he offers, diplomatically, clearly trying to placate him. He doesn't sound as if he's particularly glad, however. Count Lucio regards him with something close to pity.

"You don't even know what you've lost, do you?

The magician's downy eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "What, lost in Ilya? Count Lucio, please believe that I'm truly happy for you, if you get so much pleasure from him, and I wish you both nothing but the best of it. But he's, well, _common,_ my lord, if you'll forgive me for saying so. One finds his equal ten times in a day. Your obvious affection toward him is indeed touching, but he's hardly a prize to be mourned." 

Count Lucio's tone is cold. “You're a fool, Magician. I've never taken you for one before now, but it appears that even I can overestimate the value of my subjects. Look at him, Magician. Take a good, long look.” Here he uproots Julian from his hiding place, pulling him half-upright in his arms and dragging his head back by the hair so that he's forced to look up, putting him on display. Julian sucks in a startled breath, eyes widened in surprise, but although he becomes taut with fear he doesn't struggle even against this new humiliation. 

Asra studies his face, as he's been told... and merely arches a brow, unimpressed. “What is it you wish me to observe, Count Lucio?”

“Tell me what you do see, when you look at him with your sorcerer's sight.” Asra peers intently at the man trapped between Lucio's hands, and under the weight of his scrutiny Julian makes a low sound of despair. "Be still," Lucio growls in his ear, and he quiets. 

"My lord," says Asra quietly, after a suitable pause, "it is not in my nature to lie. I see a lost man and a lonely one, willing to demean himself for even the smallest crumbs of affection. A wandering soul, if you will pardon the poetics... who doesn't know his worth."

"Impressive."

The magician nods politely, declining to respond, waiting for the inevitable scathing retort. He doesn't have to wait long.

"...for a blind man. It's quite a feat, really - you see everything and comprehend nothing. Remind me," he whispers cattily to Julian, "to have one of the treasury lackeys evaluate how much we're paying him, would you?" Julian, lost in his own moment of judgement, doesn't reply, only turns his eyes toward Lucio in silent appeal - which Lucio ignores, still holding him before Asra's gaze like a butterfly pinned behind glass.

"Please, my lord, Illuminate my blindness. I am eager, as always, for correction." He gives a little bow that stops just short of outright mockery, and Lucio finds himself entertaining the thought of Asra on a leash of his own. Or better... manacles. A cold steel collar lined with barbs, and designed with protection againsit magic. Ah, Lucio could show him _such_ correction, if he craves it so badly! ...For now, though, he'll tend to the matter at hand. He stores the idea away for future consideration.

"Very well, Magician. My penchant for both beauty and submission in my pets is is well known, honed by years of experience, unrestricted, and yet you seem to doubt my judgement. Shall I show you what you seem determined to overlook?"

Asra inclines his head graciously, unreadable as always. “Please.” 

Lucio reaches down to run his fingers along the outline of the profile from brow to jawline, before turning taking his chin proudly in his claws and turning the doctor’s face toward his own, his gaze soft. 

Lucio murmurs, “He’s _perfect._ ” 

Julian blushes, and Lucio strokes his cheek with one golden claw, smiling faintly.

The magician scoffs. “Perfect? Ilya? Maybe if you want a whipping boy, or just a ready whore to--” 

Lucio rounds on him: “Shut your flapping mouth, you worm, before I have it shut permanently! How _dare_ you speak that way in my presence!"

Asra pales. “My lord, I--”

“Not. Another. _Word._ Magician.” 

The magician abandons that particular thought, wisely. 

Lucio all but bares his teeth, his expression threatening to reveal the viciousness that always waits just under his courtly facade: several of the lesser nobles lounging nearby, undoubtedly enjoying the show, take note and begin to make their exit as quickly as is reasonable. Lucio's gaze pierces the magician's contempt like steel through flesh. 

“Under no circumstances will you hurt this lovely creature, or even insult him. Don't let me hear his name in your mouth again, without showing the proper respect - he is under my protection. The palace offers no such boon to you, however, and you'd do very well to remember it." 

Asra draws a quick breath, bowing in earnest now, head low. "A thousand apologies my lord," he offers, humbly. Adding, after only a moment's hesitation, "A thousand apologies, Il-- ah, _Dr. Devorak._ I have spoken in haste, and I was wrong to do so.

Count Lucio relaxes, although not completely. "That's better, if only slightly. You had your chance with him once, as you were so quick to _remind_ me. You will not speak out of turn, and by rights I should have turned you out of the room like the cur that you are, to go sniffling back to my wife, speaking of keeping pets! But because I am jealous, and also petty, I want you to know what you’ve lost. And I want him to hear it, all of it. Are you listening, Julian?” 

Julian, still a nervous bundle in his arms, nods as he turns his lovely eyes to the Count. “Yes, Lucio," he says, obediently. 

Lucio cups his cheek in his good hand and smiles into his face again, again with the sort of tenderness few in Vesuvia would credit him with the capacity for. “Good boy.” 

When he addresses Asra, he grows severe once again. “Look at him. He’s beautiful even in your narrow estimation, is he not? You may answer." 

Asra nods, reluctantly, his mouth twisting. He admits, “Quite.” 

“Intelligent, as well?”

“Debatable, but… “

“He’s a medical doctor, Magician. He's also an accomplished musician, and speaks more languages than either you or I - In additon to a multitude of other skills and talents, all hard won.” The price in his voice is clear, and he strokes Julian possessively as he describes him, the way one might a prize stallion or a particularly beloved dog.

“Er, yes, Count Lucio. When you put it that way.” 

“And charming, arguably? I’ve witnessed him schmooze, barter and scheme his way into any number of arrangements he has no business being part of, probably including his current post in the palace itself.”

Asra laughs a genuine laugh, which is a sound almost like bells. “Oh, Ilya could sell ice to a snowman. I’ll give him that much.” 

“Exactly. So you agree that he makes a lovely package, but even those attributes are, as you say, not entirely rare. What makes him remarkable,” here he tightens his fist in the doctor’s hair, just enough to make him whine, “Is that he’s a perfect submissive.” Smiling, proud, he pulls the doctor’s head back at a hard angle, baring his long white throat, and eliciting a soft shudder, as his eyes open wide, search, and then settle on Lucio, relaxing. 

Steepling his fingers, Asra replies, "I'll admit that his surrender does leave a sweet taste in the mouth. But he'll give himself to anyone, he's like a stray begging for scraps from every passerby. Hardly a desirable trait, in a submissive or anyone else." 

Count Lucio says, with a trace of impatience: “You see? You can look into the great mysteries, but you miss what's right in front of you. " Julian whimpers in his grasp, and he takes a moment to run a single claw down the doctor’s exposed throat, leaving a thin red line bright against the pale skin, and releases him again. The doctor clings to Lucio, and Lucio holds him tenderly, kissing the top of his head. “There darling," the Count murmurs, "that’s alright. You’re doing so well.” 

Asra only watches, bemused. If he finds it strange to witness the cruel and sadistic Count Lucio fawning over Julian Devorak, he gives no sign. 

Count Lucio goes on, "He can be pushed to submit easily, that’s all too true… but it is his very nature. It makes him a whore and a stray no more than doing your little tricks for the Court makes you one. He was designed for this, made for it: to be enjoyed and adored, to be controlled and cared for. He will always be lonely, and hollow, when he cannot be what he is. All men are, Magician." He strokes Julian as he speaks, and the doctor leans gratefully into his touch. 

Asra nods, thoughtfully. “Just so, I suppose. I hadn't thought you so deeply immersed in the understanding of the ways of the Arcana, so maybe I _am_ a fool, after all. But... if you’ve become this wise, then surely you realize that I too am the sum of my nature - which is surely not that of a cage made to hold needy men. You love him for his essence, yet you seem to hate me for mine.” 

“Spare the the self-pity, you charlatan. I don't hate you."

Asra doesn't even look hurt, only bewildered. "You certainly seem to, if you'll forgive me for contradicting you, my lord."

"Again, you miss what's right in front of your nose. You're not worthy of my hate. But I do hate what you've done to _him_. You don't even know, do you?" 

Asra frowns. "Know what, my lord? I know he was hurt, but it was so long ago..." 

"Fool. You held his entire soul in the palm of your hand, yours for the asking. You might have enjoyed him properly, which is the thing he is meant for. You might have rejected him, so that he could gift his exquisite surrender and his pure heart to someone who wasn't a staggering imbecile. But rather than do either, you’ve used him both cruelly and irresponsibly, for pleasures far more trivial... then cast him aside as if he were worth nothing.” The Count's voice softens on this last, as if the very idea hurts him. 

The magician folds his hands, his confusion still plain on his face, "If, my lord, it is as you say, and I have wronged him so grievously... Why resent me for it now, when the injury is past, and you hold my poor victim in your arms? Isn't the better for you both, if I can no longer 'use him irresponsibly', as you say?" 

"Because you're like a child who doesn’t know how to care for his toys!" The Count of Vesuvia roars, making both Asra and Julian flinch. "Do you know how much _work_ you’ve made for me, just to begin to put the light back into his eyes? And this man, this precious, wounded creature - he deserves so much more than the contempt of a witch." Here his voice softens, and he regards his the man in his arms with a tenderness and longing that is still somehow angry at the magician.”

Slowly, thoughtfully, Asra asks, "What... is it you believe he deserves, my lord?" He seems genuinely curious. 

Count Lucio sneers, his lip curling as he prepares to respond or perhaps he's preparing to bite someone, but he's interrupted by a shuddering intake of breath from the man in his arms. Turning his attention from the magician without a second thought, he pulls the trembling doctor against his chest, crooning to him in a voice too low for their guest to hear. Julian presses his face against the crook of Lucio's neck, and Lucio wraps a protective golden arm around him. Finally he bends to whisper in his ear, stroking his hair, and the doctor looks up again as a shy, tentative smile spreads across his face. Lucio chucks him under the chin, eyes crinkling, smiling back. When he turns back to the magician, though, his kindness drops away like a mask. 

“He’s a man with a heart and a soul, Magician… he deserves to be loved." His hand tangles itself in the doctor's hair, comforting him. "He _is_ a prize, one of great worth, that must be treasured and cared for. And in exchange for this affection..." Here his gaze falls again on the man in his arms, as if he's terribly distracted by him, "The variety of pleasures that he can provide are almost limitless, one has only to command him and he is willing, eager, no matter how difficult or debauched the thing that you desire." He purrs, "Believe me when I say that you have _no idea_ what you’ve squandered. I can only hope it keeps you up at night." He sighs, contentedly, although his thoughts are undoubtedly dark ones. 

"Now," he dismisses the magician, " _Get out._ As charming as this exchange has been, I don't think I can wait another moment to be alone with him - and he's been so good. I'll speak with you again after I've finished caring for this lovely creature, and your almighty secrets can wait until then, whatever they may be.” 

Asra departs readily, bowing, although with a rustle of understated fashion and huff of indignance. The smitten Count reaches into his pet’s hair and pulls him up for a possessive kiss. Julian gasps, then moan’s into Lucio’s mouth, soft and malleable for him, eager to be kissed. 

“I think that’s put an end to that, darling. Did it please you?”

Julian, whose eyes are hazy with desire and submission, whispers, “It… hurt, what he said about me." 

Lucio nods. "As it should, when one measures one's worth by the values of the foolish and the blind. If nothing else, I'll teach you otherwise by the time I'm done with you." He ruffles Julian's hair, smiling gently. Julian sighs with happiness.

"Teach me? How?" Julian asks, coyly.

"Beat it into you, I suppose." Lucio tugs lightly on his hair, smiling. 

Julian smirks, nestling his head against Count Lucio's shoulder. "Thank you, Lucio," he says, meekly. "That sounds wonderful." 

Lucio murmurs, "He wasn't entirely wrong about you, you know. You're entirely too easy, you shameless thing. It's just your good fortune that I enjoy it so much." He bites the back of Julian's neck, and the doctor groans in a way that makes Lucio's eyes go dark with lust. He closes them for a moment, regaining control of himself.

"He was... cruel," Devorak manages, finally finding his voice for a moment. "But then, he always was, I think. But you... your words... words…” He sits up to look at Count Lucio, blinks slowly as he tries to sort his thoughts. (It’s so difficult when Lucio keeps him down this deep, making a display of him in public, showing him off this way, dangling him like a stolen jewel before Asra's very nose. Everything about it makes Julian’s head swim, he knows he isn't worthy of such praise, and it seems like in his entire body there’s only room for the thought of Lucio, the desire to please him and be near him.) Finally, he manages, “Those things you said about me, they were... so good. And they made me feel strange. But... I like it.”

____

“Yes?” 

____

“Mmhm. Is that alright?”

____

Lucio kisses his forehead, letting go of his hair in favor of cradling the back of his head instead. “It’s perfect, darling - I’m so proud of you. Now: do you think you can walk back to my chambers with me, or are you so love-drunk that I’ll have to appropriate this room instead? Because I assure you I won’t be carrying you, you great beast.” 

____

Julian bites his lip. “I-I think I can walk. Will you help me, though?” 

____

“Naturally." Lucio rises slowly, stretching, then extends a hand to help his pet plague-doctor to stand as well, steadying him with an arm around his waist. Julian _is_ a little wobbly on his feet. "You know, I ought to get you fitted for a leash and collar of your own. They’d be perfect during these little outings of ours.” 

____

“What, to match the dogs?”

____

“Mm, no. In your own colors, and with a collar designed to contain someone who has thumbs.” 

____

The doctor murmurs, “Why are we going back to your chambers? I thought you liked it out here.” There’s the smallest hint of a sulk in his words, and Lucio bites the side of his neck playfully. 

____

“Like showing you off, you mean, you vain thing?” he teases, “Oh, don’t blush… I know how much you like it. But for now we’re done giving the peasants a free show. The fact is that I’ve said far too many nice things about you… I think I’d better balance it out before you get a big head, hm? You’ll start to think I’m fond of you.” 

____

“Balance it how?”

____

Lucio grips him by the throat, not gently, whispering into his ear, “Once I get you alone, I’m going to do _terrible_ things to you, darling.” he feels as much as hears the doctor’s stuttering breath as his heart races. 

____

“Oh,” says Julian. Then, “Then yes… yes please, Lucio.” 

____

...And for once, they make it back to Lucio’s rooms in record time.

____


	2. What do you want?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the one with the smut in it. Well, the first one with smut in it, anyway.

Once they’re alone, practically before the doors can finish swinging shut, Julian finds himself pushed up against the wall, Count Lucio gripping the lapels of his white blouse by the fistfuls, his mouth a rictus-snarl of need. Bunching his shirt up in one golden fist, Lucio uses the other to seize Devorak by the hair, pulling his head down, so he can assault him with a brutal kiss. 

Julian, who’s spent the better part of the evening in such deep subspace that at one point it was doubtful he could walk on his own, simply melts under the onslaught, slowly sliding down the wall until he’s on his knees. He sits back on his heels, making himself smaller, and gazes up at Lucio with absolute worship in his eyes. 

Count Lucio takes Julian’s chin in his claws, asking in a hoarse whisper, “What do you want?”

“I-- I want you to tell me what to do. Please? Oh my god, I’ll do anything. …tell me to do anything at all. Please, Lucio.” 

Lucio grins in a way that seems to show far too many teeth, his eyes bright and wild. “Pretty words. Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing, you brazen thing? Very well... allow me to give you want you want.” In a flash Lucio has him by the throat, dragging him on his knees toward Lucio’s wide, richly-appointed bed. When he shoves him toward it Julian understands, hurries to clamber up as Lucio rids himself of his shirt and sash, apparently running out of give-a-fuck before he reaches his pants or his boots, which remain on. In his haste he’s smeared his immaculate eye makeup. His face is flushed, eyes shining. 

Julian fumbles frantically with the buttons of his own shirt, but he’s too slow: Lucio is on him in an instant, pushing him onto his back as he climbs on top of fhim. Claws at his throat, he kisses him again, hard and desperate; Julian tastes blood and knows he’s cut his lips against his own teeth. He doesn’t mind though; if Lucio wants to hurt him, to shred his lips with his furious kisses, then that’s what he should do, and it’s _good._ It’s so, so good, just to have Lucio’s hands on him, to have Lucio’s mouth on his. 

Julian groans with happiness, relaxing under the assault, surrendinger himself utterly. In response, Lucio does that disconcerting thing he’s always doing, where he seems to move rapidly from one aspect to another: in the space of a heartbeat he transitions from greed to tenderness, licking into Julian’s mouth, sucking his lips and tongue as he holds his face between his hands. Abandoning his mouth to trail quick, wet kisses up Julian’s cheeks and across the bridge of his nose, he whispers hectic blessings: “Such a good boy, my treasure, my lamb…” Then his forehead is resting lightly against Julian’s, and Julian might actually explode because his heart is so full.

“Sweet, so sweet…” Lucio says softly, stroking Julian’s jaw as they breathe together. 

...It can only last for so long, though: Lucio’s appetite, stoked all evening during their public display, gets the better of him. He falls on Julian's neck ravenously, biting him hard enough to bruise, sucking at his soft white throat to make him gasp. After tonight, the doctor knows, he will have any number of raw red marks to hide for a week or more. He welcomes it. 

Lucio tears his shirt open, unbuttoning some of the buttons and letting others tear free and roll away with little clattering sounds. Julian arches his back as Lucio drags his extremely sharp claws down his bare chest and stomach, raising angry red lines, some of which are speckled with blood in the places where the skin is broken. “Mine, you’re mine, “ he’s growling with possessive fervor, as he works him over, jealous with need, half mad with it: “You belong to me, I'm the only who hurts you from now on, do you understand me," His claws dig into she sensitive skin of Julian's left side, and he cries out: the pain is _wonderful_ "...no one else... anyone who touches a hair on that pretty head, will answer to me, I'll see them in the dungeons," Lucio's good hand seeks up along the back of his neck and into his hair, caressing his scalp before he tightens his grib and pulls his head back, viciously, hissing, "I'll have his heart mounted on my wall, I'll have his neck snapped..." 

Julian feels Lucio's claws clutching the place just over his heart protective or covetuous or both, and tears threaten to run down his own cheeks, his breathing harsh... But here Lucio's diatribe is broken as he moves back down to lick along the marks his claws have left, which stings so pleasantly, distracting him, and he forgets about everything else. Lucio rubs the flat of his tongue along one of Julian’s extremely sensitive nipples, and Julian whines… then yelps as Lucio takes the sensitive bit of flesh between his teeth and slowly bears down, harder and harder. His fingers pinch the other nipple as he does, and it's hard to say which place sings more with pain.

When he lets go, Julian gasps. Lucio drops his head to kiss his chest, tenderly, rubbing his cheek against his bare skin, further smearing his makeup, calming himself. After a moment of softness, he lifts his head, eyes dark with lust, commanding: “--Hands above your head. Hold onto the bedframe until I tell you to let go. I want to play with you for awhile.” 

“Please,” begs Julian, who knows exactly what’s coming. “I can’t, I’m so close as it is…” He does, however, reach up to hold the polished wood of the bedframe, as he's been told.

“Ohh… but I thought you enjoyed your suffering? You're always telling me so.” 

Julian gives him a desperate look. “Lucio...” 

“And here I am, trying to make your dreams come true," he tuts, smirking. He voice grows cold. "...You can and you will, Julian. You're my very favorite toy, and I've been waiting all day long to play with you. Holding you in my lap, showing you off to those simpering nobles and witless courtiers, not to mention, hmm, being forced to deal with dull state affairs... " He pauses to suck hard a still-throbbing nipple, pressing his fingerse into the shallow wounds along his sides, until Julian cries out, before continuing: " when all I wanted was to get you alone and get my hands on you, kiss your lovely mouth, hear you scream... ” Count Lucio sounds pleased, not impatient, as he runs his fingers through Julian's curls. ”But you can keep begging if you like," he offers, as if he's doing him a great kindness, "...you sound like an angel when you beg.” 

"C-can't we talk about this? I'm sure we could reach some sort of, er mutually beneficial arrangement?"

But Lucio resists any further discussion on the matter, his mouth being preoccupied with kisses and small, affectionate nips everywhere he can easily reach as his hands make quick work of the buckle on Julians pants, then the zipper, and then he slides them off and down. ...Well, until he encounters his extravagent boots, which cost him considerably more time and irritation, earning Julian the shortest of reprieves. But all too soon he’s lying between Julian’s bare legs, palming his aching erection through his underwear, the last layer of protection left him.

With genuine delight, Lucio purrs, “You know the rules. If you come, I’ll fucking kill you.” 

(This is not strictly true - in the past, he’s earned any number of creative and vicious punishments by losing the game, but death has never been among them. Still, disappointing Lucio is a punishment in itself.) 

Oh, it isn’t fair! Julian whines with his frustration, and Count Lucio only laughs at him. Then Lucio’s mouth is hot and wet on his inner thigh, first kissing him and then biting him gently, quick sucking bites, then sucking hard enough to leave marks as his fingers ghost over the shape of Julian's cock, never providing him with enough stimulation, only making him hurt with wanting. He clenches his teeth, holds onto the bedframe for dear life. Count Lucio moves to run his tongue, along Julian's length through the thin fabric, watching his face with an expression of keen interest. He goes through the motions of sucking him through the cloth, and Julian pants as he tries to block out the sensation. 

“You do look so lovely this way,” Lucio enthuses, with a note of pride, peeling down the waistband with agonizing nonchalance, running his tongue just below its edge. "Struggling so hard to control yourself while I toy with you. You're such a big, strong man, you stand head and shoulders above me... and yet, you lie under me, naked and suffering, simply because I ask you to. Why, I don't even have to tie you up - you're so desperately eager to please that I don't need to. The power I have over you is _intoxicating_ , do you know that? I wonder sometimes if you have any idea. How you delight me, my darling.” 

Julian, glowing under his words of praise despite everything, allows himself to wonder if maybe he’ll slow down, grant him a moment to regain control of himself. But of course, he doesn't. Instead, Lucio slides his underwear down and off, discarding them. There's a sensation of cold air and then the warm wetness of Lucio's tongue, sliding along the length of his shaft. He's not careful about it either, but positively lingers, clearly enjoying himself, savoring the taste and feel of his prisoner, and Julian's eyes practically roll in his head. Julian writhes and groans, hips twisting, and Lucio gives a throaty groan of lust that makes Julian's balls ache, and _Fuck,_ but this is going to be _impossible_. He's going to come any second now and he's going to be punished, harshly this time. Worst of all, Lucio will be unhappy with him. 

Desperate, he tries to focus on something that will distract him. Something dull and medical, maybe, a recitation of facts? Yes, that's it - science will save him! _The human body has three planes along differently identified central axis..._

__

“Is something wrong, Doctor?” Even with his eyes screwed shut, Julian can hear him smiling. He always enjoys this, watching his pet try so very hard to control himself, while Lucio has his way with him at his leisure. 

_Transverse Plane. Saggital plane. Coronary... no, that's wrong. Coronal plane, yes!_ His tightwire of tension relaxes by perhaps half a percentage point - but his Count Lucio is nothing if not perceptive, and just as Julian thinks he may be alright for a little while, Lucio rolls his tongue over Julian's sensitive cockhead, then swallows him, taking as much as he can into his throat. Julian cries out in anguish, every muscle in his his body tense in an effort to hold back as the Lucio pulls his mouth back up his length, sucking him as his good hand cups his balls and squeezes gently.

Julian manages to hold onto his control, barely, but it’s a near thing. “Please,” he begs in earnest now, tears standing in the corners of his eyes, “I can’t hold it back much more, please, I want to be good, please let me be good, please…” 

_The frontal plane... it divides... it divides... FUCK!_

“Poor thing,” the count sighs, relenting a little, his mouth moving to Julian’s hip, “You’re always so good for me, and I do nothing but torture you. Why do you put up with it, I wonder?”

It’s meant to be a rhetorical question, but Julian answers it anyway, his voice strained, “Because I-I'm yours.”

Beaming, Lucio crawls up his body to lie along the length of him, kissing him deeply. His thigh comes to rest between Julian’s legs and Julian longs to rut against him, but he stays still. Lucio kisses him for a long moment, rewarding him, then looks in his eyes. “Good boy, Julian. Because you’re so good, I’m going to give you a choice.” 

“Thank you, Lucio,” Julian murmurs, feeling trepidation. Lucio’s hand on his cheek is such a comfort, though.

“Don’t thank me yet, listen to the choices first. If you don’t think you can stand it, you can come right now… in fact, I’ll do it myself. I’ll lie between your legs and suck your cock until you come in my mouth - and there will be no punishment, because I’ve given you permission.”

Julian knows this is a trap, but his hips still jerk at the thought of it, and Lucio responds by pressing his thigh against him, grinding against his now nearly-painful erection, chuckling at his discomfort. “Or… " he says, with a vicious little smile, "you can be good for me for a while longer. For much longer, really. And because I’m extremely generous, I’ll let you wear a cock ring, to make it easier on you. When I’ve had enough, I’ll let you come while I fuck you. Now, which one do you want more? The choice is yours, darling.”

Julian’s brain (and his balls) hurt. Oh, but it’s a trick, to make him think it's up to him! The mere thought of Lucio sucking his cock, relieving him of this awful pressure, is almost too good to bear. And he knows that if he gives in, begs for the torment, Lucio will keep him in this state for long, unbearable hours, unmoved by his tears and his pleas, until he's drunk on his surrender. Count Lucio is indeed a skilled lover, one who can drive him to absolute ecstasy with very little effort. But he has a sadistic streak too, and he can be cruel. 

But… Julian desperately wants Lucio to fuck him. He wants to feel him inside him, hot and thick, filling him up, possessing him and claiming him, making him whole. He wants feel Lucio come inside him almost more than he wants his own release. And more importantly… he knows which one Lucio wants. So it's no choice at all, not really. 

Defeated, he whispers, “...I’ll be good for you, Lucio.” 

“You want to come while I fuck you.”

Miserably, “I want you to fuck me. I want to come while you fuck me.”

"You understand that I'm going to make you suffer first? For a long time?"

"Yes, Lucio." A single thin tear escapes from the corner of one eye, as he feels shame filling his chest and throat. Lucio leans in to lick it away, then covers the tear-trail with little kisses. 

“Poor sweet thing," he sighs, "How hard I must be on you. Are you sure that this is what you want?” In a lesser man, this might pass for backpedaling or even compassion, but Julian knows him too well: this is Lucio teasing him. 

“...Please?”

“Again.”

Julian draws a shaky breath. “Please Lucio, may I wear the cock ring and be played with by you? I want to--" his voice breaks, and he clears his throat. "I'm yours, and I want to come while you fuck me, I want it more than anything. Please, enjoy me however you like. For as long as you want. I need you to hurt me.” As he says it, he realizes it’s true. 

Lucio kisses him again, grinding into him until he gasps. “You’re my good boy,” he purrs. “I’m so proud of you. And I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight.” 

He's aware, in the beginning, of Lucio's hands on him, fitting the punishing ring arond the base of his cock so he won't come before Lucio's absolutely ready. He feels Lucio's fist on his cock, giving him a single, friendly stroke, the way one might pet an animal... Then Lucio is on him again, his body pressed tight into Julian's as he kisses him, so close that Julian can Lucio's excited pulse, racing. Lucio is still half-clothed, while Julian is naked, controlled where Julian is already panting and desperate. Julian knows that Lucio loves to hurt him this way, giving him the touch that he longs for, but only at the cost of his agony. It's Lucio's favorite game.

Straddling him, Lucio runs his hands up Julian's sides to his arms, stretched obediently over his head. Sweetly, he whispers _"Hold my hands, precious,"_ as he dislodges Julian's grip from the bedframe and threads their fingers together with a reassuring squeeze. Julian, no stranger to Lucio's rhythms of kindness and cruelty, is already trembling as Lucio drops down to take his mouth.

Lucio kisses the way he gives commands, with complete control. Now he guides Julian's responses with precision, drawing him out, forcing him to respond. At first, he kisses him with slow, aching tenderness, lapping at his mouth, sucking softly at his tongue and lips, guiding him with exquisite attention to each movement, each response to Lucio's skilled mouth and tongue. It goes on for a long time, so long that Julian starts to wonder, dreamily if it's possible to come just from being kissed--but then he remembers restraint fitted tightly around the base of his cock, forbidding him that release. Although Julian knows better, he finds himself relaxing into the warmth and the attention, letting his guard down.

As he melts beneath him, Julian groans softly into the endless kiss... and Lucio changes at once, abruptly, as if a switch had been flipped: thrusting his tongue between Julian's lips as if he means to choke him on it, Lucio's mouth is vicious, frantic his kisses hard and hurting, biting at his mouth hard enough to draw blood. When Lucio lets go of his hands, pushing them away, Julian reaches for the bed frame at once, gripping so hard that his , go white. 

He feels Lucio's claws on his skin now, drawing thin, focused lines of sharp sensation from his left wrist down his inner arm, across his armpit and then down his side, where they begin to dig in in earnest. Julian keens with want, low and needy, and Lucio pulls away to look at him, pressing himself up onto his knees, breathing hard, his pupils blown wide with lust - and Julian sees that some part of him is just barely on this side of controlling himself. Watching his face, Lucio lets their bodies come together again, rolls his hips against him, so that Julian arches his back, thrusting up into him helplessly, Lucio smiles. It isn't a _nice_ smile. Julian squeezes his eyes shut.

But Julian's not the only one effected: As Lucio moves against him, Julian can feel how hard he already is, and wonders how he can stand it. How he can make himself wait, when he doesn't have to? Julian himself is bound, his submission as sure as any rope or chain, but Lucio... Lucio is free to enjoy himself however he likes. _Why wait?_ Is it really so _good_ to watch him writhe, to swallow his cries, to dine on his pain? What does Julian give him, what could he possibly have to offer, that's worth all the time and effort Lucio spends controlling him? What is Julian but a plaything, one among many?

"...Come back," Lucio husks, taking his face in his claws. His voice is low, heavy with lust. His grip is firm but careful, and Julian opens his eyes. "Stay here," Lucio orders, voice soft but implacable. "Stay here with me. Don't go away like that."

"I'm sorry," Julian breathes, ashamed of his momentary lapse. "I'll do better. I get, you know. Scared." (What he doesn't say, what he _can't_ say in his current state, is that before Lucio he'd never been called out on this, his tendency to drift into himself, pulling his attention away, and that after all this time he's still getting used to it, to being what Lucio wants. He can't say, either, how badly he _wants_ to be that thing, how hard he tries.)

Lucio doesn't respond, but lets go of Julian, still watching him, in order to draw his claws from the base of his throat down his unmarked chest, much harder this time, leaving furrows in his skin that will be much deeper. Julian gasps, arching up into him, then moans with pure guttural pleasure as the pain sings in his skin, sharp and bright like fresh blood.

"I like it when you sound like that," Lucio sighs, well pleased, licking along his throat, " _Do it again._ " 

When he sinks his teeth deep into Julain's neck, not holding back, Julian does. Pain rolls sweetly through him, and oh, but it's _good_. He needs so, so much more of that - and he knows, if he's good, Lucio will provide it. 

_Julian will be good._

...Between Lucio's kisses and his devilish hands, the world fades into a fever-dream of sensation, an endless yearning for satisfaction that is always just out of his reach. He triest to think, but he can't: Julian's head swims, his thoughts as faint and tender as mist. Maybe he doesn't need to think. Yes, that's it... he doesn't need the distracting noise of his unquiet mind, always troubling him... He only needs to be here, in Lucio's bed and in his arms. He only needs to be pleasing and do what he’s told, and to let himself be drowned in sensation like deep water. Through the chaos of his heart and mind, there’s just one constant: Lucio. The world comes undone, fragmented. 

...He feels Lucio's strong hands holding his wrists, keeping Julian pinned to the bed so that he can kiss and lick every needy, exposed inch of him, taking his time, lavishing him with praise as much tender as his touch. He tells him again and again him how beautiful he is, how perfect his surrender. How he, Julian, makes Lucio - _Lucio!_ weak with desire. But as he basks in the praises, every touch is the sweetest agony. 

...the sharp crack of Lucio's palm against Julian's cheek, correcting him - he's let go of the bedframe, forgetting, if only for an instant. He wants to retreat into himself, burning with shame, but he isn't allowed to, Lucio holding him there with his eyes. Lucio reaches for something, hidden in a recess of the bed, and now he's shadowed by Lucio leaning over him as he tethers his wrists to the bed with soft rope, red silk. Lucio kisses him on the cheek that still stings, whispering, "Now you won't need to hold on, love," Julian would thank him, if he could speak, but he's drifting. He feels the wave of gratitude consume him - Lucio is so kind to Julian, to bind his hands this way.

...Lucio is undressing, and Julian turns his his head to one side to watch. Although Lucio's not making a show of it, he can't help but be permeated by longing: Lucio is _so very beautiful_ , he's so proud and strong and regal, almost holy in his aspect, almost untouchable. Julian doesn't deserve him, he knows this. Julian would be lucky to kiss his feet, but here he is lying beneath him, surrendered, the object of all his attention. 

... _Pain_... Julian thrills to the sting of Lucio's claws as they drag slowly up his sensitive sides, Lucio's fingers curved to cut into him, the shock of sensation making him cry out, his cock twitching, hips thrusting against nothing. _How Julian loves their cruel edges, the way they bite!_

...Julian's head rests in a shallow depression, because Lucio's knees are on either side of his head, and Lucio is a tall as a palace, as big as the world, looking down on him. With urgent movements Lucio guides Julian's mouth between his thighs, pushes into him, without restraint. He feels a swelling of pride - that he should have been the one to bringt Lucio to this state of need! And that Lucio chooses to use him to relieve it, working in and out of the ring of his mouth, repeating Julians name like a prayer or a curse. Julian's neck strains against the pressure of his bound hands as Lucio fucks his tight throat, groaning with obscene pleasure, and all his attentions shifts to keeping staying open and unresisting, an obedient object for pleasure. Lucio comes suddenly, with a shout, and Julian chokes on his bitter cum. Lucio doesn't even consider pulling out until he's finished draining himself into him, though, every drop. Once he's sure Julian's not in danger of drowning, Lucio returns to their games without hesitation.

...Lucio’s teeth are on his throat, then his lips and tongue, as his mouth sucks at Julian's hypersensitive skin. Lucio is gentler now, more languid having released some of his tension - he's more interested in licking and sucking, in exploring, than tearing into him. He still leaves marks everywhere on Julian's body, little swollen bruises where he's sucked the blood to the surface, enjoying his cries of pleasure and need, as well as his body's wordless pleading.

...Lucio’s head nudges between his legs, his yellow hair tickling his inner thighs before he splays them with his hands. Lucio lies between his legs, toying with him, sucking his cock for long, leisurely minutes, savoring his responses while Julian weeps with frustration and begs for mercy, and mercy never comes. 

Through the chaos and need, Lucio is his anchor - the touch that brings him back to himself, the voice that soothes him and tells him what to do, the approval in Lucio’s eyes the only light that Julian needs. Suspended in the warmth of Lucio’s will, he loses himself and drifts, weightless, in the satisfaction of being possessed, fully, he stops fighting. This is, after all what he wants, this perfect cessation of will. He ceases, finally, to resist the soul-deep pain of his frustration, welcoming it as proof of his usefulness. His suffering pleases Lucio, and so it pleases Julian. He still cries out, but only when Lucio tells him to, or when his traitorous body screams or moans without his permission. A fugue like peace comes over him, and he drifts, floating.

He has no idea how long this lasts - is it hours, days? Maybe he’s always been here, maybe this is where he lives. But somehow he’s looking up into Lucio’s beloved perfect face, Lucio’s soft and concerned silver eyes - although the sparkle still dancing in them suggests maybe he’s not too terribly worried.

“My god, you’re such a perfect delight," Lucio is saying. His expression shows the truth of it, and Julian feels lightheaded with happiness at this praise. "You’ve been so good for me. Do you think you’ve earned your reward?”

When Julian only looks at him, waiting to be told what to do, the count bends to kiss his mouth, whispering against it, “Say, ‘I’m a good boy’, darling.”

“I’m a good boy… darling?” 

Lucio grins. “Say, “I’m Count Lucio’s favorite toy, his treasure, and I've been so good all night long, and now I deserve to be fucked until I can’t walk straight.”

Julian tries return to himself if only barely, his swollen mouth curving into a watery semblance of his trademark smirk as he agrees, “I deserve... to be fucked?” 

“Close enough. Who do you belong to, my treasure?” 

Julian stretches - as much as he can with his wrists bound and Lucio on top of him, murmuring, “I belong to you--Lucio--!” he strains to kiss something… a shoulder, an arm… until Lucio takes pity and covers his mouth with his own. “I’m yours, I’m yours…oh, my god... ” he whispers into Lucio’s mouth, over and over like a mantra or a prayer, losing the rhythm only when Lucio reaches down between his legs, to press his slick fingers against Julian’s entrance, then eases into him. 

Julian’s breath stutters, his eyes go wide and dilated, and Lucio watches his face with a look of pure devotion. It burns, for a moment… then he relaxes around him, and there’s only the sensation of being entered, fragile and good. He feels Lucio's hand moving as he works in and out of him, shallow strokes, opening him up, going slowly in case anything hurts. It doesn't hurt. It makes him urgently needy, though. He breathes, “More?”

Then there’s an excruciating wait while Lucio applies actual lubricants, thick oils that he warms between his hands before applying them to Julian's entrance, then working them inside him with exquisite care (Julian would skip the niceties in favor of being fucked hard and immediately, but Lucio always insists on preparing him. Julian sometimes suspects that he enjoys making him wait), but then he’s inside him once again, stretching him with one finger, then two - he begins working in and out of him slowly, watching his face with rapt attention. If Julian gasps or moans at any little thrust or an upward curl of his fingers, Lucio is certain to go about it again, repeating it until he’s perfected the movement. (He already knows quite a lot about what Julian likes, but Julian always has the sense that Lucio is learning him, memorizing him.) 

In extremely short order, Julian’s eyes are rolling in his head, his back arching up off the bed, straining at his bound wrists. “ _Fuck me_ ,” he begs, adding without being asked to, “I belong to you. I’m yours, please, there’s nothing else, _I need you_ , I'll be good, Lucio _please_ …” on and on. Until, god, _finally_ , Lucio hoists Julian’s knees up over his own shoulders, positions his rigid cock at his entrance, and enters him in one slow, even thrust, not stopping until he’s fully sheathed inside him, looking into his eyes with an intensity of feeling that makes Julian want to shut his own and hide, it’s just that much.

Lucio's hand comes between his legs and frees him from the evil cock ring, and then Lucio leans down to lick at his mouth as Julian whispers his barely-articulate gratitude. Then he’s moving, and _god_ , this is it, the only thing that Julian has ever wanted in his life, it's everything good and more than he deserves. Lucio’s hand comes behind Julian’s head as he pulls him into a kiss, it pulls at his bound wrists and he doesn’t care, but Lucio pauses and Julian cries out desperately, not wanting him to stop, not for anything-- Lucio _does_ stop though, making Julian wait while he unties his wrists with efficent movement... then guides Julian's sore arms around his own neck, letting him hold on, grinning at him in a way that's almost mischevious.

"Alright, darling?

Julian nods, rapt and yearning, caught in his eyes... and feels Lucio's arms beneath him, and a sense that he's cradling him, almost, before his hands brace against his shoulders, pulling Julian's well-used body tight against his own, holding him close and tight as he begins to fuck into him in earnest, looking down into his face with such heat that Julian feels it like a pain in the center of his chest.

...except it doesn't matter, _nothing_ matters because Lucio's _moving_ , thrusting in and out of him in a building rhythm as Julian's hips rise to meet him, the thick head of Lucio's cock - god, his cock is so perfect and so good inside him - nudging and then pounding at the sensitive nerve bundle there, white light exploding behind Julian's eyes. Lucio's hand, slick with oils, wraps around Julian's cock and he strokes him in time with his thrust, and that's perfect too. His voice is in Julian's ear, encouraging him, praising him, calling him good. He’s been holding back for so long that at first it seems like he _can't_ , something in him locking down, afraid to let go... but Lucio is unrelenting, working for each spasm of pleasure, urging him to let go, and suddenly it just washes over him like a wave... with no warning, the pleasure and release exploding like light from the center of his body, turning him inside out as he comes *forever*, until it hurts, and someone is screaming Lucio’s name in Julian’s voice, and suddenly he’s just… 

Gone. Blackness, he's a blank. 

And he’s waking up, coming back from wherever he was, Lucio is rubbing his aching shoulders - and chafing his wrists, pinching the tips of his fingers to check his circulation. Lucio is covering him with his body and kissing him delicately, smoothing his hair, searching his face. He’s speaking to him, maybe? Yes, definitely. It takes a moment for him to focus on the words.

“...alright?” 

Julian blinks slowly up at him, his mouth moving into a crooked smile. He wets his lips, which are dry, tasting blood. Has he split his lip at some point? Lucio is still looking at him, expecting him to say something, but he’s forgotten what he’s supposed to say. Instead, he says the only thing that could possibly matter: “I’m… I’m yours?”

Lucio’s grin suggests that right or wrong, this isn’t what he was expecting. He bites his own lip, lifting Julian’s hand to his cheek, turning his head to kiss the palm. Julian watches his mouth move while he talks. “Good boy, Julian. Now try to focus on the question for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Lucio cups his face in his claws, but so gently, and asks (again? apparently??), “Are. You. Alright?” 

Julian tries, he really does. “...Alright?”

Lucio purses his lips, “How are you feeling?” 

“Feeling. I feel like… I feel…” He looks to Lucio for help. How is he meant to feel, what would Lucio like him to say?

Lucio frowns slightly, stroking his cheek, and Julian’s eyes brim with tears. Has he said the wrong thing? But Lucio kisses his forehead, petting his hair. “No, none of that now, you haven’t done a thing wrong. My god,” he sighs, half to himself, “You do everything right. You make me so happy. You’re perfect.” Julian relaxes, confused but reassured. 

“Just listen to the sound of my voice for a while, pet. You can do that for me, right?” 

Julian nods. 

“Say, ‘Yes, Lucio’ “

“Yes, Lucio. ...I can do that.”

“Good boy. You’ve done so well for me, and I’m terribly proud of you. Now let’s try to bring you back to yourself, if we can. Come, put your head here.” Lucio turns onto his back and moves up the headboard a little way, making a pillow of himself, and pats his chest to indicate that’s where Julian’s head should be. Julian is quick to obey, folding himself into Lucio’s arms.  


Time becomes soft and distant again. Lucio is talking to him, helping him to stay grounded in his words, bringing him back. Lucio's voice, so comforting, is telling him how good he is, how perfect, how precious and adored. At some point, Julian falls asleep.


	3. Come back to bed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be nothing but aftercare, but it got away from me. That Julian is just -full- of surprises, isn't he? Bless.
> 
> (Also - there are typos, I know. It's late at night. I'll fix them as I find them, please be patient with me.)

For a while, Lucio studies Julian, who sleeps in his arms as trusting as an infant. He’s careful not to wake him, but deliberately unfolds one of Julian’s arms from where he’s crossed it over his chest, and guides it up to wrap around his own neck. Closing his eyes, he allows himself to drift. 

When Lucio opens his eyes again it’s beginning to be light outside. He untangles himself from Julian, who in his sleep becomes something of a clinging vine, and winces as he puts his bare feet on the cold floor. He pulls the blankets up to Julian’s bare shoulders. 

In short order he’s wrapped in a thick robe, and has summoned the valet in order to let him know that all his appointments and meetings for the morning and afternoon should be canceled, also that no visitors should be permitted to call. As an afterthought, he tells the maid to send for breakfast and light the fires in the smaller of two hearths. 

That pressing business concluded, he runs a hand across his face to encounter the ruins of his makeup, and winces. Damn! Wistfully, he thinks about bathing, dressing, and making himself beautiful again before waking the drowsing doctor. But… no. As tempting as it is, it would be unforgivable. Not even the most casual of playmates should expect to wake up alone after a night like the one they’ve had, and experience has taught him that Julian’s separation anxiety during and after such deep submission is far more severe than average. No, it won’t do. Allowing himself a rueful sigh, he returns to bed, and sets about the business of waking him.

“Julian? Wake up my dear, it’s almost time to face to world again.” 

The man currently cocooned in his bed groans in protest, and pulls Lucio’s plush blankets up over his face. Lucio pulls them back down, revealing a disheveled doctor. 

“No. I’m sorry, but you have to get up.” 

The doctor moans dramatically. He tries to give Lucio a pitiful look, but his puppy-dog eyes aren’t nearly so effective when he can barely keep them open. 

“I’m sooo tired…” he rasps, and Lucio notes that his throat sounds raw. 

“Be that as it may, you have to get up sometime.”

“I hurt all over… so sore, Lucio, “ he sighs, “You’re so… hard on me…” 

Count Lucio grins. “You love it,” he says, peeling that blankets down further, so that he can lower his mouth to the doctor’s bare chest. His fair skin is a road-map of purpling hickeys and new bruises, with fresh claw-marks running down his chest and his belly, as well as up both of sides. Lucio kisses his way down as he unwraps him.

“Hngggh… I do,” Julian admits. His voice is all gravel and sand. He gropes for Lucio blindly, nearly poking him in the eye before Lucio captures his questing hand and cups it to his cheek, kissing the palm. When Lucio sucks his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, laving them with his tongue, Julian opens his eyes. 

“Still hurts, though,” he grumbles.

Lucio smirks and lets Julian’s fingers fall from his lips, dragging his teeth across them as they pass. “I know, poor thing. That’s why you have to get up, so I can tend to you. We have to make you better again, don’t we?"

"Whyyy? Just let me... stay here and be damaged in peace." 

"So you can go back to being that very brilliant and charming doctor who’s constantly in demand within the Palace?”

Julian squints his eyes shut and shakes his head, making a face. “No… no doctor. I'm... retiring. Just this. Come to bed.” He pats at Lucio’s pillow, clumsily. 

Lucio bites him in the side, just below one of the angry-red claw marks, and the doctor yelps. “Stop sulking and behave,” Lucio chides, although there’s a smile in his voice. “You have to get up, you have to bathe, you have to eat.” 

“You didn’t say… I had to get dressed,” he mumbles. "Should I assume... that I am to be naked? Or was that just... for last night...? 

Insolence! With one deft movement, Lucio yanks the rest of the blankets from his naked body, and Julian shrieks at the sudden chill, starting up, wrapping his arms around himself. Lucio crawls on top of him and pushes him back down, brimming with delight.

“Ohh no, you said you wanted to stay in bed, so stay in bed!” he laughs. “You’re my prisoner, and this bed is where you live from now on!” Pulling the sheet back up over them both he seizes the doctor by the wrists, not raising them over his head but pinning them by his sides, and even that not very forcefully. His shoulders probably hurt him, considering how long Lucio kept him tied to his bed last night. 

Julian opens his eyes - such beautiful eyes, even sleep-crusted and bleary - and smiles up at him. “That’s… going to get awkward,” he says. 

“Eventually,” Lucio admits. “But right now, it’s working in my favor. Any last words?”

“Wait, an execution already? I just became a prisoner!” 

“Recalcitrant prisoners get executed,” Lucio murmurs, turning his head to fit their mouths together before he kisses him, slow and searching.

The kiss goes on for a long time, only breaking when Lucio sucks at his bottom lip, tasting the torn skin there, and pulls away. He pulls his lip down carefully, revealing the vermillion border and the injury there, which he examines with a queer mixture of fascination, sympathy and pride. Releasing him, he touches his lips to Julian’s forehead without moving them, just resting against his skin with the taste of him in his mouth. He releases the rope-burned wrists so that he can move his own restless hands across Julian’s naked body, touching him everywhere he can easily reach - not to arouse lust in him, or even in himself, but simply enjoying him. 

Julian is warm and pliant beneath his hands, a landscape both known and unknown with his new injuries. They are small injuries, and will heal easily, but Lucio likes to know that Julian will carry him on his skin for at least a little while, will remember him whenever he brushes against one by mistake. He feels Julian’s gently hands in his hair, and on his shoulders and his arms, and a contentment like sunlight on a cold day spills over him. 

He stills, just lying on top of him without moving. He wonders if he’s making him take too much of his weight, then decides he doesn’t care. Julian is a grown man, bigger than Lucio is, he can take it. He can take quite a lot, and Lucio’s weight is probably the least of it. 

They lie like that for a long, blissful time, but eventually he feels Julian move beneath him, restless and wanting more attention: he shifts his hips and arches his back just a fraction, his hands seeking up and down Lucio’s back. Lucio lifts his head and props his chin on a fist to regard him affectionately.

“Greedy, aren’t you?” 

The doctor has just enough shame to blush, staining his pale cheeks the fetching pink that Lucio has come to love. “S-sorry,” he murmurs, abashed. 

Fondly, Lucio takes his chin in his claws to guide his gaze back to Lucio, where it belongs. “Don’t be, I like you this way.” The doctor’s answering smile, slow and shy, melts some formerly frozen thing in Lucio’s heart. 

“Was that… the execution?” Julian’s biting his lip again. 

Lucio’s eyes narrow and he grins. “No,” he growls, “this is.” 

Lucio runs his tongue along the line of the doctor’s throat, tracing the single claw-mark he’d left there yesterday when showing off his prize, then drops lower, kissing his collarbone and then his chest. He sucks a swollen and sore-looking nipple into his mouth - although he’s not trying to hurt him, the pressure of his mouth nonetheless works a deep groan from Julian, making Lucio shiver.

Looking up, Lucio fixes him with a suspicious glare: “You know, I swear you do that just to affect me,” he accuses. 

“--What! I, humble as I am," he protests languidly, "...manipulate the, ummm... the formidible Count Lucio? Count Lucio The Magnificient? Feared in seven nations? Oh, I would never dare...” he sighs, stretching underneath him like a big cat. 

Lucio doesn’t answer, just punishes him: moving a hand between Julian’s thighs to close his fist on suddenly on Julian's eagerly stiffening cock, brings his mouth to the other nipple and bites down, then sucks. 

Julian gasps, throwing his head back, whispering, “Fuck,” and Lucio feels ever so vindicated. He licks his palm and then strokes Julian’s cock lazily as he kisses and bites along his sternum, laps at his stomach, dips his tongue into his navel. By the time he nuzzles into the thin pubic thatch (which is as delightfully red as the hair on his head), Julian is practically panting. (He’s just so easy to get worked up, who could possibly resist?) 

Lucio trails sucking kisses and small sharp bites along his inner thighs before he nuzzles his sac, laps at him, takes it carefully into his mouth to suck on, and Julian goes up by several decibels, though his vocabulary stays the same: “Ah, _Fuck_!” 

Lucio hisses,“Shh, shut up! Do you want to bring the guards, thinking I’m being murdered? Put something in your mouth, you craven thing!” (This isn’t a thing that’s likely to happen, but Lucio enjoys provoking him.)

Julian pants, “Tech… technically it’s-- your fault--,” but he bites down on a pillow anyway, because he’s in the habit of doing what he’s told. Lucio rewards him by running the flat of his tongue against the head of his cock. 

“Technically... that’s an awfully big word,” Lucio teases. But as soon as Julian takes the pillow out of his mouth to no doubt protest that he knows many words, several even bigger, Lucio takes him into his aristocratic mouth, lips stretched around his fat cockhead, then several inches of his shaft. His eyes never leave him, taking in every moment of his response. 

Julian’s head falls backward, one hand covering his eyes, and because he’s no longer clenching the pillow between his teeth, his moan is now so loud that he really might bring the guards - if they didn’t know better than to interrupt. “Oh-- oh god,” he breathes.

Lucio plays with him for a few minutes, alternating between sucking him as deeply as he can manage in this position, or dragging his mouth up and off his length to lap at him coyly, providing enough stimulation to keep him hard and keening, but not nearly enough to bring him close to climax. 

When he’s had his fill of hearing him cry out and watching him thrash, he sucks his fingers to wet them and spreads the cheeks of the doctor’s perfect ass. He circles the sensitive skin around his entrance with slippery fingers but doesn’t enter him, kissing and sucking at just the head of his cock while he watches him respond. The contraction of Julian’s body starts in his groin and rolls all the way up his spine as he shudders, his mouth open, breathing hard. 

“Lucio, oh my god,” he moans, eyes heavy-lidded as he raises his head to look at him. Lucio must not look half-bad himself, even unwashed and without his makeup, because at the sight of him Julian gives a low, desperate sound and shuts his eyes. 

“Lucio, I’ll die. You’re going to kill me.” 

“Right,” Lucio murmurs, unconcernedly. “This is an execution, I told you.” 

“Please.”

“Please what, lovely?”

“I don’t know what! Just--”

“Difficult for me to give it to you then, isn’t it?” he continues to toy with him at the same pace, now doing nothing to either help or hinder his arousal. A coy smile turns up one corner of Lucio’s mouth.

“Please, just… have me.”

“Mmm. That’s a little better, but still vague. Have you how?”

“However you want. Anything, just… my god, please. I can’t take it, not again, I’ll die in this bed and you’ll have to bury me.” 

Lucio pulls away from Julian’s cock and pushes just the tip of a finger into him, hardly anything, but Julian whimpers anyway. 

“If I was going to have you buried, I’d have the palace staff do it for me,” he says, honestly. “But you beg so prettily that killing you seems like a waste of a perfectly good plague-doctor. Let’s keep you around a little longer, why don’t we?”

“Sounds good to me,” Julian husks, barely paying attention. 

Lucio pulls away from him and moves up the bed, shucking his robe, spreading his thighs and sitting back on his heels. Julian giving him a yearning look - one that Lucio recognizes immediately. Lucio takes his chin in his fingers and bends down to kiss him, lightly. “Ah, ah, darling - I can’t let you drop again, we have only today for you to recover. Now come here, I want you in my lap.” 

Julian sits up quickly, climbing into his arms. Sitting in his lap, he spreads his legs to either side of Lucio’s hips so they don’t topple. It’s a little awkward given that Lucio is the smaller of the two, but they make it work. Lucio is already hard from teasing him, and Julian looks everywhere but at his long, slender cock. “Like this?” 

“Almost. Hand me that vial.”

The container in question is the one where Lucio keeps his lubricating oils, although it’s dangerously low after last night's marathon. Still, there’s plenty for right now. “Spread your legs a little more,” he tells the doctor, who does. Lucio watches him with close attention as he massages the thick oil into his entrance, grinning a little at his flushed cheeks. “What, now you’re shy?” 

“I was shy the whole time!” Julian protests, pretending to be hurt. Lucio cups the back of his neck as he kisses him, and slides to fingers into him.

“That’s right, I forgot what a blushing virgin you are,” he mocks, kissing his mouth to swallow his answer, “I’ll have to be more delicate with you in the future, so I don’t offend your honor.” He nips at his jaw, holding a claw across his lips to keep him quiet as he works his fingers in and out of him, eliciting a groan of pleasure that stays trapped inside his mouth. “But for now… I think I’d prefer that you ride me instead. Yes?”

“Gods, yes,” Julian breathes. 

Lucio guides him into position, holding him there while he thrusts up and into the larger man, just as Julian sinks down onto him. There’s a close, tight pressure, squeezing him almost too hard, then he presses up against the resistance and _god_. He should be used to this by now, but somehow he isn’t. The heat inside of him, the way the taut ring of muscle squeezes him with every movement, it’s like every good thing, but all at once. 

Tilting his head back, Lucio looks up into doctor’s face - cupping his cheek in one hand, to forestall his tendency to hide from Lucio - and finds, to his stark surprise, that his own need is reflected there in the other man's expression, his own yearning and hunger and joy. A strange tenderness blossoms in his chest, filling him like light. He feels almost weightless, as if he's barely tethered to this bed, this room, and might float away at any moment.

He begins to move incrementally, starting slowly at first, thrusting his hips up by the smallest fraction, his hands on Julian’s ass and hips to guide him, able to look aware from the rapture on his face. Does he really look that way because of Lucio, is it truly his doing? “Oh, my darling,” he whispers, stroking his cheek with the ball of his thumb, still moving in and out of his heat. Julian turns his head to capture his thumb between his lips, sucking at it with half-lidded eyes, as if any part of Lucio is precious and worthy of all his attention. The sight of him makes Lucio's pulse stutter. _So beautiful._

Lucio begins to move faster but only just, finding a slow, pulsing rhythm that makes it hard to think, still showing the doctor with his hands and his movements how he should respond to Lucio’s strokes as he glides in and out of him. With one golden hand still on his hip, he brings the other to the nape of his neck, where he spreads his fingers and just holds him, and _fuck_ has anyone ever had something so good, before now? They've been together so very many times now, and in many imaginative positions, but every time, it’s the best-ever-thing all over again. For the first time, it occurs to him that part of the reason for this is that he’s in love. He feels a sense of wonder, and then dismay. Oh, no. Not this, not for Lucio, surely? What a terrible thing, such weakness, such sentiment! 

At once he's hungry for a kiss, because even this isn't enough, he needs him with all of his senses, wants to be overwhelmed, suffocated by the very fact of him. Because Julian’s above him in this position, Lucio lifts his mouth for a kiss - he’s prepared to force his head down to take what he wants if it’s not offered - but there’s no need. Julian immediately curls two fingers under Lucio’s chin, tilting Lucio’s face toward him with the utmost gentleness, and kisses his lips tenderly without hesitation, and also without breaking the slowly building rhythm that they share, Julian’s hips flexing as Lucio’s cock slides in and out of him with such perfect friction and heat.

Without thinking, Lucio opens his mouth for him, inviting Julian to take more from him, and is almost surprised when his beautifully submissive pet threads his fingers into Lucio’s hair to tug at it and kisses him hard, invading him with his tongue, and then caresses him so skillfully that Lucio neglects to reprimand him for it, fails to take back control or even try, instead simply abandons himself to the way it feels to be kissed this way, by someone he trusts utterly. 

Lucio won’t be sure, later, just how this happened, but as he’s both kissing him and towering over him, Julian wraps an arm around Lucio’s neck, and using the other on the bed for leverage… begins to change the rhythm of their fucking, moving faster, a pulse becoming a throb and then a drumbeat, driving his desire faster and harder, until urgency sings just under his skin. 

Lucio should protest this, should put a stop to it, their roles are slipping... but it just feels so good, both the effortless sweetness of the kiss and the rhythm and pressure of Julian moving up and down on him, guiding them. He's taking what he wants Lucio’s from body-- but at the same time he knows Lucio's own needs so well that he's playing upon them like an instrument, and Lucio feel like there are fireworks going off behind his eyes. And it's so easy. All he has to do is just _move_ with him, riding on the rhyhtm he doesn't have to control. They’re moving together now, like one creature, and god, but this is _good._  


Julian breaks the kiss, finally, only to take Lucio’s face in his long-fingered hands and tipping his head back to expose his neck… but so carefully, so lightly, that it feels like a question - nothing like Lucio’s rough, possessive hands on Julian. Lucio shouldn't like this,he _never _likes this, but it feels so natural with him, so uncomplicated. He drops his hands to Julian’s hips, rocking with him, and offers his throat.__

____

Like his touch, Julian’s kisses are uniquely his own… Lucio favors biting and tearing, teasing, but Julian’s kisses at the side of his neck are feather-light, only gradually pressing down into him with more insistence, sucking at his skin, before he feels the sharp edge of his teeth, barely there before it's gone, only to begin again. The pleasure builds steadily, the doctor's mouth both warm and attentive, the rising tide of sweet sensation never interrupted by pain. There is nothing here to diminsh Lucio, not even in surrender, and he grows dizzy with the knowledge. Julian holds him there, still fucking him in that maddening, drumbeat way, and moves to the column of his throat, where he kisses all along its length with the perfect amount of pressure, so that Lucio sighs and surrenders to the sweetness of it. _My god_ , he thinks, dazedly, _have you always been able to do this?_

____

Being so caught up in the novelty, of the moment, he's taken by surprise when Julian changes the rhythm again, raising up a little more but then slamming into him, the stimulation too much, or almost too much, pushing him relentlessly toward his climax. At the same time, he realizes that Julian is simultaneously using Lucio's body for his own needs, just as if he had every right to, which is both awful and wonderful. Without meaning to, Lucio loses his own control at the very thought of it. 

____

He gasps, “I’m… fuck! I’m so close!” his eyes opening wide, shoving Julian’s gentle hands away from him, staring into his face with a look of desperate need that borders on anger. Julian doesn’t even hesitate, just rides Lucio harder and faster, panting and groaning, and god, even his sounds are annhilating. Lucio reaches between them to wrap his good hand around Julian’s dripping cock, as much to take back control as anything else, but his timing is either exquisite or exquisitely bad: As he himself falls over the edge, cumming inside him in a way that feels endless, spasms of pleasure and grief wracking his body, Julian explodes in his hand, spilling hot and white all over Lucio’s chest and throat, even his chin isn’t completely spared from the enthusiastic onslaught. 

____

Julian comes with his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut, crying out Lucio’s name. Lucio hates him. Lucio loves him. He’s the most beautiful thing Lucio’s ever seen.

____

When the aftershocks have faded, They look at each other across the gulf of their bodies, spent, waiting to see who will be first to speak. Julian looks a little sheepish, but at the same time positively proud of himself. The audacity of him! 

____

Lucio is the one to break the silence. “Now we definitely need a bath,” he observes a little breathlessly. Julian's answering grin, sweet and wicked, makes his heart do what feels like a flip in his chest, tired or not. They separate slowly, Lucio wiping the evidence of Julian’s adoration from his chest and throat with the bedsheet. Casting the sheet aside with a fastidious grimace, he rises from the bed - and immediately has to steady himself with one hand on it. It must be that the flooring is uneven here, although he's never noticed such a thing before - or maybe there are small earthquakes localized to where he's placed his feet, yes, that must be it. He’s definitely not a little wobbly or weak at the knees, his head still spinning from the intensity of his climax. 

____

He turns back to Julian - beautiful, maddening Julian - with whom, probably, he should be blindingly angry for his shamelessness, his blatant rebellion. Imagine, this man touching Lucio without his express permission! Daring, even, to wrest control from him! Perhaps he's angry after all? 

____

But the doctor merely smiles at him, his expression so very open, so thoroughly sated... and as lovestruck a fool as Lucio's ever seen. In response, Lucio can feel nothing but the warmest devotion -- and a strong undercurrent of desire, even as the effects of his release still echo through him. So it's true, then, just as the court loves to whisper: the doctor literally can do no wrong in Lucio's eyes. And Lucio is enamored, betwitched, undone. 

____

Well. A pity, but he supposes that it had to happen to him sooner or later - it was inevitable, and he has evaded it for so long. With no outward sign of his internal demise, or almost none, Lucio holds out his hand for his conqueror to take. 

____

“Coming, love?”

____


	4. Stay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be an epilogue, just aftercare, but I think it's actually the final chapter of the story? You can decide, my dears. <3

Lucio is first into the bath. He immerses himself in the fragrant water while Julian is still examining his various cuts and bruises in a long mirror half-shrouded with steam, twisting his long neck from side to side as he tries to peer around to see his back.

Resting his folded arms on the side of the bath, watching him, Lucio can’t help but feel a thrill of satisfaction at the appearance of his well-used body. That this beautiful, brilliant man should look like that because of _him_ , because of a desire to please _Lucio_ \-- it stirs some deep joy in him, and Lucio feels a fierce sense of ownership. Why, he might as well be writing his name all over him! ...Which is an excellent idea, and Lucio files it away for consideration at another time. For now, though it’s enough to know that the doctor will wear him on his skin for a week or more, a fact which Lucio finds delightful.

“I can feel you gloating, you know,” Devorak drawls, turning to look at him over his shoulder.

“You can feel no such thing,” Lucio grumbles, offended.

“I can, though. You’re very loud when you gloat.”

Lucio retreats from the ledge as Devorak saunters closer, stretching his sore limbs and arching his long back and showing off. He _should_ show off, Lucio thinks, as he admires him - he’s so exquisite that it’s only proper.

“How very droll, Doctor. I suppose you have a diagnosis for that too?”

Julian eases into the water, groaning with relief. Lucio’s extravagant bathing pool is so big that it’s been built with marble steps descending into the water, so that when Julian sits heavily on one of the lowest, he’s submerged up to his neck. Lucio, noting that his throat sounds still raw, rings a bell to summon a servant.

Julian says, “I… ah, god that’s good… I do, actually. Megalomania.”

“Megalo who?" Lucio asks. Then, to the servant who's arrived abruptly, from the antechamber, "...yes, bring him a medicinal marshmallow-root infusion. Nothing for me.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Julian says pointedly to the servant, a young man who flashes the doctor a quick smile as he bows and departs. Lucio ignores this obvious display of etiquette, as he usually does. Contrary to what Julian may think, this is not a teaching moment. Lucio knows how to use good manners, it's just that he _chooses_ not to.

“Meg-a-lo-mania,” the doctor doctor enunciates, closing his eyes. “It means, basically, being a covetous bastard who enjoys owning fancy things.”

With a sloshing of water, Lucio moves to sit behind and above him in order to wrap his arms about the doctor’s broad shoulders, his knees on either side of him. Julian relaxes into him gratefully, resting his head against Lucio’s chest with a soft sigh.

“I see," Lucio murmurs. "So should I extrapolate to assume that you consider yourself a fancy possession?”

“Obviously. I mean, look at me,” Julian yawns, stretching his long arms and then posing lazily, grinning his crooked grin, “Perfection.”

Lucio bends to kiss the top of his head. “I can’t argue with you there,” he admits, toying with his hair. Julian turns to press his cheek to Lucio’s chest, easing an arm around his waist and closing his eyes. They stay that, hardly moving, hearing only the slow, heavy sounds of the water, until Julian’s infusion arrives.

A different servant, a young woman this time, sets down the tray holding the steaming cup, along with honey and lemon, on the wide ledge of the bath. Julian rouses himself enough to thank her from the comfort of Lucio’s embrace, although it makes him blush slightly, while Lucio ignores the interaction altogether. The servant departs, and Julian eyes the tea warily. The smell is herbal and green, with a bitter edge, any color vanishing into the dark mug.

“I’m not drinking that,” he rasps. "I don't like it."

Lucio, long-suffering, closes his eyes and sighs. “You will.”

“Have you actually _tried_ it? You always make me drink it, and it’s disgusting.”

Eyes still closed, Lucio lowers his mouth to the curve between Julian’s neck and shoulder, nibbling at his damp skin. “Price of admission, darling. You’re the one who gets to drink it because you’re the one who had a cock forcibly shoved down his throat,” he murmurs, letting him feel his teeth. "Repeatedly, might I add."

“I enjoyed _that_ part,” Julian protests.

"As did I," Lucio says, "but enjoyment doesn't negate the need for aftercare. What good will you be to me, if I let you fall to pieces? I hope to be fucking your pretty mouth and your tight throat for a long time to come, darling." He smoothes his good hand along the throat in question to indicate his appreciation of it, and Julian tilts his head back to offer him better access, his head falling on Lucio's shoulder. 

“I - Mmm - can live with a little sore throat, you know," he sighs. "I’ve lived through worse…”

Lucio kisses the underside of his jaw as he strokes the column of his throat, licking water droplets from his skin. “Testing your endurance is hardly the point… You know damn well that I pride myself on taking good care of my things." The last words come out low and deep, a purr, as Lucio uses his claws to turn the doctor's head toward him and capture his mouth.

Julian makes a soft, sweet sound of happiness as he surrenders to the kiss. “...especially a fancy possession such as myself?” Lucio can taste his shameless smile.

“Exactly. I’m hardly going release you back into polite society sounding as if you’ve swallowed a bowl of crushed glass in the brief time I’ve had you to myself.” Holding him in place, he kisses Julian with gradually increasing pressure, harder and deeper until he moans, drawing back with lidded eyes.

“Hmm… but all I’ve swallowed is your _magnificent_ cock, Count Lucio.” Julian teases, although even now his own expression is languid with desire. “I should think you’d be proud for me to display the damage it’s done to my poor, delicate trachea.” He tilts his head back to bare the long line of his throat again... then gasps as Lucio accepts the invitation, fastening his mouth there, sucking at his pale skin. “Don’t you want everyone to know what a _good_ and _obedient_ creature I am?” he continues, a little breathlessly.

Lucio curls his claws at Julian's nape. “If you were a good and obedient creature you’d have drunk your tea by now.”

Julian whines softly. When Lucio releases him, the doctor’s lovely eyes are tired but shining, and he leans forward to speak within a breath of Lucio’s mouth, tempting him. “Well, we can at least keep up the illusion, right?” His sultry gaze moves between Lucio’s eyes and his lips, hungrily. He leans in, barely touching, lips parted slightly, and waits for Lucio to close the gap. He flutters his eyelashes.

Lucio leans in, tilts his head… and pushes him away, covering his mouth with one hand. “Tea first, you scoundrel. _Then_ you can have another.”

Clutching his chest, grasping the lapels of an imaginary shirt, giving him his most wounded look (which in truth is fairly convincing), the doctor laments, “Ohh! What have I ever done, my lord, to deserve such cruelty! Such rejection! Have I not been pleasing enough… have I once failed to debase myself for your amusements… have our too-often interludes stolen in your eyes my air of mystery my lord…”

While he’s finishing his performance, and before he can think up an encore, Lucio adds a little lemon and honey to the mug, stirs it around. “That last one,” he says curtly, mouth twisting around a smile, “Now drink up.” He pulls Devorak against his chest again, facing away from him, and the doctor pretends to struggle, churning the water around him into foam with little grunts and splashes of feigned effort.

“Caught, so, on the barbs of cruel fate… !“ he protests, falling back against Lucio’s chest as he clutches his restraining arm, "Also,” he adds, pausing, “It’s probably still too hot.”

Lucio takes a sip to call his bluff, grimacing at the taste. “It’s fine.”

“See? You don't like it either!”

“We’ve been over this. It's medicine, not candy. _I’m_ not the one who had his voice ravaged by my cock,” he murmurs, this time enjoying the memory of it. Inwardly, he's a little sorry that it's too soon to do it again.

“Imagine if you could be, though.”

“I suppose it would be an impressive feat of contortion," Lucio admits, considering. "Redundant, though. That’s what I keep _you_ around for. Under what circumstances would I have any need to do it myself?”

“Oh, but you have no idea what you’re missing, Count Lucio! Being penetrated by your peerless prick is one of life’s great pleasures, my lord.”

“You’re a poet, Devorak. Now take your medicine.”

Julian opens his mouth obediently, although not without a look of martyrdom, and Lucio tips the cup up to make him drink, only stopping when holds his hand up, then turns his head to swallow with a grimace. “Repulsive.”

“I don’t doubt it. Drink.” Lucio tilts the cup again, and after the next mouthful has been dutifully swallowed, he offers, “I understand the need for the theatrics, though, when I know you’ve swallowed worse. Often at my insistence.”

“I’d prefer it was one of the other things.” He holds out his hand for the cup. “Let me do it.”

Lucio pulls his hand out of reach. “Absolutely not, you had your chance. One more.”

Julian scowls, before tilting his head back and opening his mouth. Lucio tips the rest of the medicinal concoction down his throat in one go, and when Julian makes a face as if to spit it out he rests a hand across his mouth to prevent him opening it. “ _Swallow_ it.”

The doctor does, screwing up his face, and Lucio replaces the cup.

“Ghastly," Julian splutters. "and that part at the end is the bitterest!”

Lucio gives him a half-smile. “I know, that’s why gave you the last of it all at once.” He strokes his fingers through the doctor’s damp curls, rubbing away a stray bead of water before it can get in his eyes. “You’re such a child.”

Julian scowls at him - then turns in his arms, facing him. “You taste it then,” he grins, pressing in on him, “I believe I was promised a kiss?”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes first, Lucio slides a hand behind his neck, the other dropping to his waist. “So you were,” he concedes, and pulls him in to bring their mouths together. Lucio kisses him slow and deep, trails his claws lightly along his lower back, and Julian groans into his mouth.

“ _More_ ,” he pleads in a whisper against his lips, still kissing him. “More, please. Please? I drank it, i was good. Hurt me…?”

As tempting as he is when he begs, Lucio moves his claws away, replacing them with the smooth skin of his good hand. “Not today,” he murmurs, leaning in to take his mouth again. “Too soon.”

Devorak keens in protest, but Lucio soothes him with one possessive kiss after another until he surrenders, resigning himself to being merely adored.

* * *

The rest of the day passes quickly after that. Once they’re clean and dry, Lucio dresses Julian’s cuts and bruises himself (Julian protests that he’s fine, but Lucio suspects that he secretly enjoys the attention), and applies a salve to his aching shoulders. Afterwards they dress, (Well, _Lucio_ dresses - Julian has to be bullied into putting on trousers and a half-buttoned shirt ) and eat a sumptuous breakfast that’d been laid out while they bathed.

When Julian, satiated every way, stretches out on the bed again and and closes his eyes, Lucio doesn't stop him. After a little while, he gathers a stack of correspondence that wants attention, and joins him. He should, he knows, let him sleep while he catches up on some work in a more serious setting, but he can't bear to leave him just yet. Not now, not while he's in such a rare state: his habitual tension clawed and fucked and loved out of him, his expression so open, his body soft and languid instead of coiled like a tightwire about to snap.

Julian yearns toward Lucio even in his sleep, so it’s only a matter of time until the doctor’s head is in his lap, and then gradually the doctor himself, so that Lucio has to put aside the work he's pretending to do. "You make it impossible to get anything done, you're a complete nuisance," he whispers to the mostly-sleeping doctor, nuzzling the top of his head. Julian makes a noncommital sound of contentment. Lucio tangles his good hand in his curls, stroking him, and pulls him close.

* * *

“I don’t see why you have to go,” Julian murmurs, “Can’t you call in sick or something?” Careful not to rumple Lucio’s clothing, Julian rests his fingertips on Lucio’s hips, taking advantage of his greater height by leaning down to kiss the nape of his neck. Lucio shivers appreciatively before he pushes him away. Julian retreats to the opposite wall, to watch him get ready.

“You know I can’t. It’s bad enough that I’ve already cancelled an entire day for you. You’re a terrible distraction.”

“Let me distract you more, then.”

Lucio looks up from the mirror. Julian’s leaning against the wall at a respectful distance, long arms crossed over his chest, with a rakish smile on his face and one eyebrow cocked at a saucy angle. Seeing him this way, full of confidence, is quickly becoming one of Lucio’s favorite things. At times like this the sadness behind his eyes retreats for a little while, and he all but _glows._

It’s weakness, Lucio knows, to concern himself with such things. But the way the doctor’s looking at Lucio right now makes him yearn to corner him and kiss the smirk from his face, drag him into his bed-- or better, just have him up against the wall where he stands (oh, _yes_ ), hard and sudden, and with Devorak's delicious little cries spilling directly into Lucio's ears as he claims him...

With regret, he drags his gaze away. "Later."

Julian pushes off the wall and saunters back over, this time fussing with a few stray wrinkles at his shoulders. “Do you enjoy them, these official functions? At least you get to eat good food and look dashing, right?”

“Not at all; I hate everything about the affairs of state.” Lucio grumbles, looking in the glass as he puts the finishing touches on his makeup. “They're so dull."

"Why go at all then? It's not like you _have_ to do anything you don't want to." Lucio favors him with an indulgenet smile.

"That's not exactly how it works, love. There are, in fact, a large number of things I have to do, unless I want Vesuvia to fall into chaos. I'm only omnipotent where _you're_ concerned, I'm afraid.

Julian smirks, at that. "Lucky me," he says softly, straightening a few of the war medals and symbols of rank that Lucio always wears to these things. They aren't crooked: Lucio knows that Devorak's only doing it as an excuse to touch him, but he doesn't correct him. He's pleased by the doctor's inability to keep his hands to himself, at least for the moment.

Taking up his sash, he says, "You have no idea how boring these things are. Or how long. I ought to take you with me one of these times and leash you to the leg of my chair,” he mutters, “Pet you under the table, feed you scraps from my plate, really give them something to gossip about tomorrow.”

Julian takes the red sash from his hands and kisses his fingertips. “I'll go with you whenever you wish,” he agrees readily, draping it across his right shoulder and smoothing it with careful attention.

Lucio strokes his cheek with one claw, brushes a lock of hair from his eyes. “You’d do that, without even my ordering it? Let all those fine people see you reduced to a kept lapdog, kneeling at my feet? This isn’t merely the palace staff. Don’t realize the kinds of things they’d say about you?”

Julian kneels to fix the sash at his hip with a flat knot, and pin it with a golden clasp. “They already say them, you know.”

“Yes, well. They’d say them much louder after that, I assure you.” Lucio uses his pinky to sharpen the edge of his dramatically arched eyebrows, outlined in thick black, then turns his head from side to side to scowl at himself critically.

“I wouldn’t care, if it pleased you to have me there,” Julian says, in an earnest voice. Lucio huffs a laugh, reaching down to caress him, and Julian leans against his thigh, looking up at him with naked adoration in his eyes.

“Do you know, I believe you mean it,” Lucio murmurs, with a faint smile.

“You should always believe me about things, I'm a doctor," Julian grins. “You can pet me now,” he adds, "even though I'm not leashed to a table." Taking Lucio’s good hand he rubs his palm along his cheek, nuzzling. He murmurs, "I have do without you for what might be hours, and I need the attention to hold me over.”

Lucio does, tracing along his features with a manicured fingertip, playing with his hair. “Demanding little creature, aren’t you?”

Julian presses into his touch, sighing, and closes his eyes. “Special care and handling are among the many costs of maintaining exotic pets,” he agrees airily. “You knew as much when you decided to add me to your collection.”

Lucio grins, running a thumb along his full lower lip, “And you fancy yourself the star of that collection, I’m sure.”

“Naturally.” Lifting himself higher on his knees, Julian gestures in the air with both hands. ‘ The Rare Nevivion Doctor, identifiable by its unusual red plumage. Questionable singing abilities but able to scream your name in several languages and plays the vielle, poorly. Requires constant care in order to thrive. Unfailingly loyal. Why, some species are even known to bond for life!’ “ He reaches up to catch Lucio’s wrist, mouthing his thumb where it touches his lips, then pressing a series of reverent kisses to his palm.

“Extraordinary,” Lucio murmurs, “No wonder I’m so stricken.”

Julian just nods, accepting the praise as his due. Carefully, watching his face for a sign of rebuke, he pushes Lucio’s elegant sleeve up by an inch, then another, and begins to kiss his way up his inner arm. Lucio allows him to get all the way to his elbow before he feels himself begin to respond to attentive warmth of the doctor's mouth, and pushes him away, gently. “Enough. I can’t be late again because of you," he murmurs.

The doctor retreats obediently, standing, bowing his head in acquiescence. “Perish the thought, Count Lucio.”

Lucio fixes his sleeve, adjusts his sash fastidiously, and looks at himself once more in the glass. “I’ll see to you later, my caged beast,” he promises, with real warmth in his face.

“Ohh? Well in that case-- shall I come back, afterward? Maybe I could be on hand in case you need to relieve a little, erm… tension? From the long, dull hours spent preserving the republic from chaos and anarchy?” He unfolds his arms and laces his fingers together behind himself, arching his back ever so slightly, then turning his head at just the right angle to look at Lucio from beneath his long lashes, biting his lower lip. Lucio knows this is an act, but it's effective all the same. Lucio looks him up and down, making a show of assessing him coolly, and Devorak seems to hold his breath.

“...No.” Lucio says, decisively.

Julian nods, chastened, looking away to hide the disappointment. Lucio moves forward him to take his chin and throat in his claws, letting him feel their edges, drawing him up to look into his eyes, which widen in surprise. “M-my lord?” he asks, tremulous.

“I don't want you to 'come back',” Lucio says, severely, frowning at him. “I want you to stay.”

“...What?”

_Weakness!_ the constant, critical voice in Lucio's head chides him. Lucio ignores it. Once you know what you want, what’s the point in waiting?

More gently, he says, “You haven't anywhere to be, have you? You could use the rest, and I _am_ hard on you. We can have the masseuse sent up for those shoulders, order whatever you like for your dinner...?” his good hand strays to squeeze Julian’s still-tight shoulder muscles, briefly, then he strokes his cheek with the ball of his thumb. ”...and I'll be back before you know it. Stay another night with me."

Julian's happiness shows in his eyes, which crinkle at the corners. “Thank you, Count Lucio. I-- I’d love to.”

"Good," Lucio nods his approval. He hesitates for only for a moment, eyes roving over Devorak's beautiful eyes, his angular features, his perfect mouth, before he continues in a steady voice, betraying no hint of insecurity at the decision he's made. "And then, stay tomorrow night. And the night after that one, and the night after that.”

Devorak’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline his lips parting a little. A small, shy smile turns up the corners of his mouth. “You’d want me for so many nights?” he asks, something almost like wonder in his voice.

“Those and more,” Lucio says quietly, looking into his eyes. "All of them."

Devorak's expression moves from pleasure to shock, and Lucio reaches for him. Cradling his face between his hands, he says tenderly, "Don't attach too much meaning to it - I’m simply tired of sleeping apart from you - it interferes with my circadian rhythm, you see. " and pulls him down to be kissed.

Julian moans into his mouth, his long-fingered hands coming up to cling to him, tight. Lucio knows he's being wrinkled, but it can't be helped. Between kisses, Lucio tells him, "I don’t... _Mmm_...care what a sacrifice it may be for you, Doctor. My sleep - _ah! so sweet_ \- is far more important than your comfort, so... _hmm, yes_... don't even think about refusing, I won't hear of it.” 

__

When they part, Lucio is surprised to see that his eyes are shimmering. Julian swallows hard, nodding his head. “Understood, my lord,” he breathes, nodding slowly. "I'll make whatever sacrifices are required of me."

__

Lucio nods sharply, moving toward the door, but a thought occurs to him: “You may have some of your things brought to these rooms, if you’d like - it’s much more convenient to me if you can be constantly on hand, without any irritating rushing in and out.”

__

“Of course,” Julian murmurs, still looking afflicted for some strange reason. "Th-thank you, Count Lucio."

__

“Good boy,” Lucio says, and watches him soften under the praise.

__

He moves toward the door again, almost late now, and nearly makes it out... but is called back by the sound of a single, choked sob from the throat of the doctor.

__

Stymied, Lucio curses beneath his breath. _Damn_ this ridiculous man and his melodramatic ways - how is Lucio supposed to leave, or ever get anything done at all, when he makes noises like that??

__

Turning back again, he sees that Julian has collapsed - not on the settee, but next to it, in true dramatic fashion, on his knees as always. He’s hidden his face in his large hands, and appears to be sobbing messily into them. Lucio sighs. Lucio tells himself that he is only being a good steward of his newest possession, merely protecting his own reputation and interests, that the way his heart aches at the sight of Julian Devorak in pain is a product of his own imagination. Still, he returns to side, helpless to do otherwise. Sinking down onto the settee, he pulls Julian’s head into his lap. Julian buries his face against him, clinging to him, still shaking as he sobs.

__

It occurs to Lucio, quite against his will, that at this moment all he wants in the world is to have this man in his arms, holding him and whispering endearments to him, taking his hurt away... Disgusting. Lucio makes himself sick. Of all the terrible things to happen to him, this man is the worst by far. He resigns himself to being extremely late, and draws Julian back up into his arms, to sit next to him. Softly, he asks, “Does it hurt so much, to give up your freedom? You needn’t, if--”

__

Julian interrupts him with a damp, urgent kiss, clutching him desperately, like a drowning man might. “No! No, it isn't that!" He exclaims, stumbling over his words. It’s improper, of course, dreadful manners on Devorak's part. But there’s no one here to see it, and Lucio allows himself to melt into his intoxicating _need_ , the familiar taste of him. Right now, he tastes like tears.

__

When they part, the doctor looks a disaster, Lucio runs his fingers through his hair to straighten it, brushes his tears from his cheeks - which is futile, as the gesture only seems to elicit more. "What _is_ it then?" he asks, with a trace of impatience.

__

"I'm sorry. I’m so sorry to be a bother to you, Lucio. And I’m so sorry that I've made you late. Erm, again." He blushes, but goes on, as if he has to rush to get the words out. "It’s just that, well. It’s just that I’m not really used to being wanted that way, not really.” he confesses, finally daring to look up. Inexplicably, the tightness in Lucio's chest grows worse. Lucio tugs him to press his face against his chest, stroking him, resting his chin against the top of his head, and it recedes a little. He wraps his arms around the doctor's shoulders and pulls him hard against him. 

__

"So you're not unhappy, then?"

__

Julian's laugh is unsteady. "I can't remember the last time I was this happy," he confesses, still tearful.

__

Slowly, Lucio smiles into his tear-streaked face. “Well, that's because the care and feeding of a Rare Red-Crested Nevivon Doctor is a dying art, and you’ve never been captured by someone as knowledgeable as I am,” he murmurs, releasing him and tilting his chin up to look him in the face. "I'm very good with animals, you know."

__

“That’s true,” his Julian agrees. “Are you going to capture me?” Lucio laughs, shaking his head.

__

“My, aren’t you slow, for a doctor. I’ve captured you already, you simpleton.” He brushes his hand against the doctor's cheek and draws him into another lingering kiss, not parting from him when the kiss his over. “Now,” he sighs against his mouth, “I’m going to have to tame you.”

__

Julian bites his lip, and Lucio’s eyes are drawn back to his mouth. “Is there a difference?”

__

Lucio chuckles, allowing himself to stroke that pretty mouth with one claw. He's going to be _so_ late. But what does it matter? He's the Count of Vesuvia, and he's taking care of important issues at the moment. “Mmhm yes, a rather large one. Captured animals can’t leave their masters, because they’re caged or because they’re afraid of them. But animals that have been tamed...” he leans in to lick at the seam of Julian's lips delicately, and Julian whines. “...they love their masters, and would rather die than leave them. They don’t even have to be leashed, because they’d never, ever run away.” He kisses the corner of Julian’s mouth, then along his jaw.

__

“And that’s-- what you're going to do to me?” He sounds breathless again.

__

“Yes, that’s what I’m going to do to you. By the time I’m done with you, you'll be completely in my power. I’ll be able to walk you naked over a cliff if I want, and you’ll do it happily, just because I ask you to. It’s the best, most reliable kind of bondage there is.”

__

Julian’s draws back to look into his face, his expression soft. “Will you walk me over a cliff, then, when you’re done with me?”

__

“No,” Lucio whispers, still half-mesmerized by his mouth, wanting it. With his claws he guides him to part his lips, which the doctor does at once. Lucio takes a moment to indulge himself, sucking his full lower lip for a long moment, licking into him possessively, then pressing kisses all along the edges of his mouth as if delineating a piece of property, claiming it, taking his time. Finally, he breathes, “I’m going to keep you.”

__

Julian seems about to speak, but before he can say anything Lucio kisses him, really kisses him, hard and hungry and demanding. He finds that he has to use a hand at the back of his neck to force him to stay in place. Not because he's trying to pull away, he's not-- but suddenly the doctor is crying again, this time in big messy sobs that seem to come from the place deep in his chest where he keeps his store of sorrow, and it makes it difficult to enjoy him as much as Lucio wants to. Lucio’s going to have to teach him a lesson about that, to demonstrate to him that’s completely possible to cry and be kissed at the same time. But they’ll work on it later. They have time.

__

He pulls away, smoothing new the new tears away from his face as best he can with just his hands. “You’ve already made me late again,” he remonstrates, but he’s can't seem to be angry. He bumps his forehead against Julian's - it's a gesture the hounds always seem to find comforting when he has to leave them for a while, and it works - the doctor seems to like it too, and his hitching breathing slowly returns to normal. He's the one to break the kiss, drawing away... he lowers his eyes, newly shy, then looks up at Lucio, again through his outrageously long lashes which he seems to consider a secret weapon. (He's not wrong.) 

__

“I’m sorry, Lucio,” he says meekly, "for making you late." 

__

“No, you aren't. Not yet. But you will be.” When he looks up, eyes wide, Lucio kisses him again, and rises to leave - and he intends to actually go, this time.

__

“See that you’re in waiting in my bed, where you belong, when I return,” he orders, not looking at Julian, instead taking a moment to fix his face in the mirror... _What a lot of trouble this one man has turned out to be!_ “In fact, from now on I expect to find you there every night, unless I've instructed otherwise. As for tonight... It may be quite late when I return, but I can see that you require discipline. Tonight when you prepare for bed, you'll fasten the cuffs on your wrists and ankles for me, but don't attach them to anything. You may wear the blindfold or leave it off as you wish, but I expect to find you leashed to my bed when I see again - at which time we'll deal with this outrageous display, and discuss _in great detail_ what happens when you make me late for important public events. Is that quite clear?”

__

“Yes, Lucio!” Julian agrees quickly. Then, humbly: "Thank you, Lucio." He doesn't look like someone who's afraid of his punishment, though: instead, a happiness that seems almost too big for him shines like the sun in his lovely face. It's something Lucio's never seen in him before this moment, and his vulnerable beauty now is... well... it's _breathtaking_. Lucio has to force himself to look away before he does something he'll regret, something that will make him not only late for the meeting but absent from it altogether. 

__

“Good boy,” Lucio says softly, his gaze lingering for a moment. Then he turns away, and is gone.

__

 

__

(The End)

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I think that's everything. What a sentimental mess, huh?? I hope that some of you enjoyed it as much as I did - In any case, I'm so grateful to everyone who takes the time to read my scribblings. 
> 
> I feel like Julian/Lucio are a little different every time I write them together, and I'm in love with THIS Julian and Lucio in particular, their violence and sweetness, their improbable fantasy world. I won't be adding to this story, but _**I'm going to publish a series of Drabbles and One-shots with this same version of the two, and set in their world** _, simply so I don't have to give them up yet. So if you enjoy them, please keep an eye out for that!__


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